


new starts

by anicula



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Ficlets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2019-06-18 15:48:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15489273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anicula/pseuds/anicula
Summary: a place of carmilla/laura ficlets





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> un-orphaned work.

Carmilla walked in and dumped her bag down, taking Laura’s pillow with her before dropping on her bed.

"Why are you always taking my pillow?"

"Because I need some colour in my life sweet cheeks and yellow is the bumble to my bee."

Laura scrunched up her face and did a little huff before rolling back to her computer screen.

All that late night research and she still didn’t seem to understand what a vampire can actually do, Carmilla mused, cracking her joints before opening a book. She inhaled its age old pages, watching the particles in the air swirl lazily over half faded ink.

 

Keen olfactory senses my darling one. That's why.

 

 

Nothing smells quite like Laura does. That weird combination of sweet and smokey like burning marshmallows next to a campfire. It’s a match Carmilla never before thought would be a good pair but yet here they are, and here is the reason why Carmilla reads in the awful dorm room with paper for walls instead of the large antiquated library the Dean insists on preserving.

 

 

She can only focus on her book a few minutes at a time, distracted every time Laura moves. It’s hard to keep her eyes on the pages of a beloved favourite when Laura is so active in her pursuit of studying - little ticks like tapping her pen once before she starts writing and biting her bottom lip ragged.

Carmilla is careful to roll over and hide the sudden flare of her nostrils. She wants - she wants  _so_  bad. But now is not the time. Most likely never will be but-

Laura lets out a sight of frustration.


	2. cold and not at all alone

Soft kisses pressed along the tops of her cheekbones. It’s always soft, her lips, so uncharacteristic of someone so callous. Much like her light fingertip, tracing along exposed skin - up the slopes of shoulders and across collarbones so breakable, a vulnerable neck. Goosebumps fleshing out to be more apparent.

Carmilla presses a kiss there too.

It’s not a promise, they have no agreements. But once in a while, like clockwork, someone will feel so desperately cold (surrounded by stone walls and haunted forests what did you expect Laura) and Carmilla offers up her comforter.

Except Laura takes more than the comforter (says it’s payback for all the times she’s missing a pillow). She sneaks her frozen nubs for toes into Carmilla’s bed and then her entire body in because she’s read somewhere that sharing body heat is the best way to go.

Carmilla rolls her eyes and continues her reading. There’s a smile there though, a faint quirk of the lips that grows more pronounced when Laura burrows in, snaking an arm around Carmilla’s waist and burying her face in the curve of Carmilla’s hip.

Then there’s the subtle angling of her head to provide Carmilla with a wide expense of neck. And utter smugness in knowing Carmilla just finished her last bag of blood somewhere around four this morning.

Laura doesn’t like getting bitten - it stings and gets sore and she’s always too grumpy for a few days afterwards. She still does it though - offer. Laura likes the thought of the act, that she can give something back to someone who’s had her back before she realized. It’s not redemption or anything so severe, just knowledge that she can and will provide for those she holds so near and dear.

Carmilla skips past the blood part though, aims straight for the stretch of skin not covered by a pajama top that’s too modest and noses her way down, book abandoned precariously on the bed frame.

Laura shivers, not from the cold, but from the warm press of tongue that makes her feet arch. She sighs, relaxing back into the warm bed as Carmilla works her way back up for a proper kiss. The wet slide of tongue gives away nothing, not the tang of copper Laura used to expect but now can’t remember for the life of her why she did. The press of their bodies are so close that she can feel Carmilla not wearing a bra and she slides her hand up, slips between the tight fit between shirt and skin.

Carmilla stops Laura’s hands from going too far.

"Don’t you have class tomorrow sweets?"

Laura stares at her, she knows she’s breathing a little too hard to actually seem incredulous, probably comes off as looking a bit in awe instead. So she does the next reflexive thing and tugs her hand out of Carmilla’s grip before pulling her own shirt off.

"Or not."

Carmilla’s eyes refocused themselves.


End file.
